


like the winter needs the spring

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmares, contract induced trauma, the angst is like Not Real though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Nikolaj is in the locker room. Nikolaj is on the ice. Nikolaj is sitting on a couch.Nikolaj is in bed.(nobody ever said dreams had to make sense.)
Relationships: Nikolaj Ehlers/Patrik Laine
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	like the winter needs the spring

**Author's Note:**

> this is for canuckgurl1983 on tumblr who requested "nikolaj has a bad nightmare that shakes him to the core and patrik comforts him" which INSTANTLY rang my hurt/comfort alarm bell. so i wrote this in like two hours.
> 
> tried to get the Vibe of like.... the weirdness of dreams into this so hopefully it doesn't come across as just Weird sdfkljls
> 
> title from "i need you" by america

Nikolaj is in the locker room.

He pulls his jersey over his head. As it settles on his shoulders, he frowns to himself. Something feels… off. He can’t put his finger on what, though, so he turns to Patrik’s stall to centre himself. Patrik always makes him feel better.

Patrik is tying his skates, looking as solid and steady as always. Before Nikolaj can turn away, relieved, Patrik seems to shudder. No—flicker. 

“Wh—” Nikolaj’s voice cuts off as Patrik fades away right in front of his eyes. “Patty,” he chokes. 

“Fly?” 

Nikolaj turns, his eyes probably a little crazed, and looks down at Adam. Adam’s hands have paused where he was tying his skates and his expression is concerned. 

“You okay, bud?” Adam asks.

“Did you not see that?” Nikolaj demands. His voice is too loud, too shrill, but Patrik just disappeared like a fucking _ ghost _ and he was the only one who saw it happen. 

“See what?” Adam sounds confused and he’s frowning. 

Nikolaj waves a hand at Patrik’s stall. “Patrik, he—” He stops. Patrik’s stall isn’t empty anymore. Instead, _ Brandon _ is sitting there, laughing at something Kyle said. “But he—I don’t—” Nikolaj feels dizzy. He sits down hard and buries his face in his hands, trying to breathe.

“Nik?” That’s Blake’s voice—he’ll know what’s going on, probably.

Hopefully.

“Wheels,” Nikolaj says, desperation and urgency in his voice, “it’s Patrik. He’s _ gone.” _ He chances a glance up at Blake to see his reaction, expecting shock and concern.

Instead, Blake looks at him with confusion in his eyes. He looks concerned, yeah, but more like he’s concerned for Nikolaj. There’s none of the alarm that Nikolaj would expect to see. 

“Who?” Blake asks.

“I—” Nikolaj stops. Stares. “What do you mean, ‘who’?” he says, furious. “Is this some kind of—some sick joke?” He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You got Brandon to come all this way for some stupid prank?”

Everyone in the room is staring at him. Nobody’s laughing. Patrik doesn’t appear. 

“‘All this way’?” Brandon looks confused. He exchanges worried looks with a few of the guys. “Fly, are you sure you’re okay?” 

Nikolaj stands up abruptly, swaying a little on his skates. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he says angrily. “You were—you signed in _ Pittsburgh.” _

“Uh,” Adam says, “no he didn’t. He signed here this summer, remember?”

“But with Patrik’s contract, how—” Nikolaj feels like the world is crumbling around him and nobody else can see it. 

“Hey,” Mark interrupts, “we can do this later. Let’s go play some hockey.” 

Nikolaj is on the ice. 

He’s waiting for the opening faceoff. 

_ What, _is all he has time to think, then the puck drops and he’s automatically skating to catch it. 

The game consumes all his thoughts, and he’s chasing the puck into the corner when someone lands a hit on him.

He staggers a little, but manages to keep his feet and shoot a dirty look at the player who hit him.

Crooked grin, blond hair, a flash of blue eyes—

“Patrik,” he gasps, still winded from the hit, and he ignores the puck and skates as fast as he can to catch up with Patrik.

Most days, that would be easy. Right now, it feels like Nikolaj is skating on slush. With every stride, Patrik gets farther and farther away. Nikolaj tries to call to him, but no sound comes out. 

Patrik seems to be shifting, somehow. His jersey shifts from red to orange to yellow to green as Nikolaj watches, the only constant the bold _ 29 _on his back.

Nikolaj can’t move at all now. He looks down and sees that he’s sunk into the ice, trapped up to his knees and still sinking. The last thing he sees before his head goes under is Patrik disappearing again. 

Nikolaj is sitting on a couch. 

Part of him knows that it’s his couch—his and Patrik’s, in their apartment—but this place doesn’t feel right. He stands up slowly, trying to figure out what’s going on.

All the lights are off. Everything looks dim gray and shadowy, furniture darker on dark. Nikolaj moves slowly so he doesn’t bump into anything. 

“Hello?” he calls. His voice seems somehow muffled by the utter silence of the apartment. “Patrik, if this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.” His attempt at anger is spoiled by the trembling note in his voice. 

He makes it to the bedroom and stops cold. It’s so _ empty. _

Okay, it’s not totally empty—all of Nikolaj’s stuff is there. 

But the potted plant on the windowsill that Nikolaj had goaded Patrik into buying when he’d implied that Patrik wouldn’t be able to keep it alive is gone. The charger Patrik always leaves plugged in is gone. Most jarringly, Patrik’s pillow is missing. 

Nikolaj stumbles forward, pressing his hands to the bed. He skims his hands over every inch of it, hoping the pillow got misplaced under the blankets, but there’s no unusual lumps. 

_ “Patrik.” _ Nikolaj’s voice is weak and he sinks to his knees, hands fisted in the bedspread. There’s a burning feeling in his throat and behind his eyes, but no tears come.

“Nik.”

Nikolaj looks up, breath catching in his throat. Patrik is sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking at Nikolaj with a somber expression. His face is shadowed. 

“Patrik,” Nikolaj gasps. He reaches out to take Patrik’s hands, but somehow he can’t reach. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t touch Patrik even though he’s barely a couple feet away. “Patrik?”

“Don’t you remember?” Patrik asks. He keeps going before Nikolaj can reply. “I’m not here anymore. I left. I didn’t want to stay. Not in Winnipeg, not with _ you.” _

That does it.

Nikolaj’s tears well over, hot on his cheeks as he stares up at Patrik through blurred vision.

“You don’t mean that,” he gasps, “you can’t, you _ don’t.” _

Patrik gets up, brushing past him on the way to the door. Nikolaj twists around to watch him leave, arms wrapped around himself. Patrik pauses in the doorway. 

Beyond the threshold, the hallway has disappeared. Everything outside the room is as black as pitch, void of any colour or form.

“Come back,” he cries.

Patrik shakes his head and steps into the dark. 

As Nikolaj shakes with sobs, the darkness trickles into the room. It coils over the door, the furniture, the decorations. Everything vanishes into it.

Eventually it wraps itself around Nikolaj, too, and his awareness fades away.

Nikolaj is in bed. 

His face is itchy and damp with tears, his eyelashes sticky and gross. He scrubs his hands over his face and blinks.

Late morning sunlight shines through a gap in the curtains. The alarm clock tells him that it’s nearly eleven o’clock in the morning. _ It was just a dream. _

He sighs and rolls over.

The bed is empty. 

Nikolaj’s breath stutters in his chest and he pats at the sheets, fear rising in his chest at the cold beneath his hand.

“Hey, I made you—Niky?” 

Nikolaj’s attention snaps to the door, where Patrik is standing with a mug in his hand. As Patrik registers the expression on Nikolaj’s face, he steps closer and sets the mug down before sitting on the edge of the bed. Nikolaj bunches a hand in his shirt just to prove to himself that he _ can _ touch Patrik, that Patrik’s _ real. _

“Niky,” Patrik says, careful, “what’s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream,” Nikolaj says. His voice wavers a little and he stares at Patrik’s chest. He can’t bring himself to look at his face right now. 

Patrik’s hand finds his hair and he scratches Nikolaj’s scalp gently. “It’s okay now,” he says. “You’re awake. Do you want to talk about it?”

Nikolaj makes himself look up at Patrik’s face. He looks earnest and concerned. Nikolaj knows he won’t make fun of him for this.

“Can you just,” Nikolaj says, tugging at Patrik’s shirt until he gets the hint.

Careful not to squish Nikolaj, Patrik climbs over him. He joins Nikolaj under the blankets and scoots closer to him. Nikolaj rolls over to wrap an arm around Patrik’s waist, tucking his face into Patrik’s chest. Patrik rubs his back and Nikolaj’s breath slowly starts to even out.

“You were gone,” Nikolaj says after a long silence. 

Patrik’s hands still on his back and he draws back a little to look at him. Nikolaj just follows. He doesn’t think he could tell Patrik while looking him in the eye. 

“You were gone, it was like—like you didn’t come back. Like you’d never existed. You were on another team, but nobody else knew you and I couldn’t—I couldn’t _ find _ you,” Nikolaj says, the words pouring out of him too fast. “Then you were there and you told me—you said you didn’t want to stay with me, and I woke up and you were gone, and—and—” Nikolaj’s voice cracks and he fists his hands in Patrik’s hoodie.

Patrik’s arms are almost too tight around him, but Nikolaj doesn’t mind. It’s reassuring. 

“It was just a dream,” Patrik says, pressing his lips to Nikolaj’s hair. “It was a nightmare, okay? I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, not unless you make me.” 

Nikolaj laughs. It’s weak, but it’s something. “I wouldn’t do that,” Nikolaj says. “Not ever.” 

Patrik strokes his hair comfortingly for a long time. “Your coffee is getting cold,” he murmurs eventually.

It’s probably after noon by now, but Nikolaj doesn’t feel like getting up just yet. The chill of his nightmare is fading with Patrik’s warmth, and Patrik is solid and comfortable, and everything just feels _ right. _

“I’ll get up soon,” he says quietly. “For now, I just—I want to stay like this.” He snuggles impossibly closer to Patrik to emphasize his point.

Patrik exhales a soft laugh, his breath ruffling Nikolaj’s hair a little. “Okay,” he says. He kisses Nikolaj’s temple. “I’ll stay with you.” 

Nikolaj knows what he really means. 

_ I’ll stay with you forever. _

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a little sumthin sumthin i like to call........ tenderness.
> 
> also a refreshing break from all the HORNINESS i've been cranking out (pun not intended!!!!)
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


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